Citrine (Deliverance #3)

8. Eli

8

Eli

I don't get to think about it or analyze this new feeling before he's back again. Looking just as pissed off, and just as deadly.

Fear tries to bubble up. From my experience, I know it's mere moments away from boiling over.

Then I think back to him ordering me to not steal his voice. In other words, don't talk.

Hijo de puta , no way.

Despite the knot of fear tightening in my stomach, I refuse to let his threats intimidate me. I've had enough of that for a lifetime. I spent most of my life trying to avoid conflict.

Look where that got me.

My subconscious screams at me to back down, to avoid provoking him any further, but I need to embrace this change in the little bit of time I have left to live or I've truly let every bastard in my life win.

My voice rises as I challenge him. "I've had enough of people like you. If you plan to kill me, then just do it."

I watch his reaction keenly, my heart pounding in my chest. He's massive. He's made his intentions really freaking clear. He starts rising from the water, his tentacles making him tower above me before he's even on shore. His alien face twisted in rage.

I'm going to die.

Suddenly I can't take it.

I fled an abuser, lived on the street, pulled my life back together a little more each year… for what? Just to be on this maldito … terrible planet? With this monster?

Something in me snaps.

Irritation bubbles up inside me, mingling with the fear that threatens to consume me, and in a moment of defense, I do something I know I'll soon regret.

" Uy, qué care-chimba, " I mutter, then yell it in English to help fortify me further. "You dickhead!"

I rise shakily, my whole body protesting, though not as loudly as before.

I grab a handful of pebbles from the ground, my fingers trembling with adrenaline as I take aim at his dickhead face.

Each stone punctuates my frustration and anger as it pelts off his smooth skin.

With a growl that makes my stomach turn upside down, he reacts like an enraged beast. The dangerous sound echoes through the air and I wonder if it is just me and him on this island.

It's a primal sound, one that triggers a surge of fear within me, reminding me of my vulnerability in the face of this powerful creature.

Indeed, I am weak, but as they say, fake it till you make it.

" Hijo de puta ," I curse again in Spanish.

I wish he knew I was calling him a dickhead son of a bitch.

Finally, one of my pebbles strikes him squarely in the eye, which he barely closes in time. A small victory in the face of overwhelming odds.

It only serves to stoke the flames of his fury and the part of my mind that usually helps me avoid really stupid actions starts to reassert itself.

His growl intensifies, reverberating through the air like the roar of a hurricane, all howling wind and destruction. I find myself frozen in place, my heart pounding in my chest as I await his next move.

"Stop," he bellows as he makes his way toward me.

I can't back down now. Everything my padre taught me about bullies, which I abandoned in all those years of trying to stay small to avoid being hurt, comes rushing back.

Never let them see your weakness. They are all cowards inside.

I can see the intensity in my padre's black eyes as I remember, and it fills me with confidence.

Or more stupidity, but I go with it.

"You think you can scare me?" I retort, my voice trembling with adrenaline. "You think you can just threaten me and expect me to give in to fear? I'm not some helpless victim you can push around!"

I have definitely lost my freaking mind.

Of course he can push me around. He has a million limbs, and they all look like they could snap me in half.

None of that shows as I take a big breath, then scream back my own inarticulate hurricane cry. Sounds a human should never be able to make, and they somehow make me feel bigger than I am. Stronger.

If he kills me, at least it will be on my own terms. I've allowed myself to be far too small for far too long.

It got me nowhere but arrested one moment and here the next.

My mind pulls up an image of my stepfather on the stretcher and I wait for the horror to rise, or to wonder if he's still alive, but there are no regrets. My only regret is how long it took me, and that he might not be dead.

It was easier than I thought and maybe I need to stop underestimating myself.

Yes. I'm done.

He stops as I run out of breath and the whale hurricane sound ends in a whistling wind, his eyes narrowing as he regards me.

He makes a dark, grating sound, and it sends shivers spidering down my spine.

"A fierce challenge," he admits, his gaze never leaving mine. "You lack the strength to do it."

Diablos . What did I just say I would do?

Doesn't matter.

I square my shoulders, refusing to show any sign of weakness, though I'm burning with curiosity to know what I just said to him. It didn't feel like words.

"I would do even worse," I challenge, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands.

He makes the grating sound again. Laughter? "If you expect fear, you will be disappointed."

With a sudden burst of movement, he lunges forward, his tentacles whipping through the air with terrifying speed.

He didn't even need to leave the water.

Shit.

I stumble backward, narrowly avoiding his grasp, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to keep my footing on the uneven ground.

Before I can even process what's happening, I'm drenched, a force pushing me to the ground as if a floodgate opened. It knocks me to the ground, more bruises added as I hit jutting rocks.

The water envelops me, soaking me to the bone, leaving me dripping and disoriented. Is this some sort of childish game of pool splashing on freaking steroids?

Better to use his tentacles that way than to crush me, I suppose. But it doesn't help make me any warmer.

"Useless shitty clothes," I mutter, imagining burning them in my rage.

And then, as if to make matters worse, I feel his eyes on me, his gaze burning into my skin as if he would really eat it alive.

I glance up to see him emerging from the water, his massive form towering over me like some ancient sea monster. His eyes are wide with surprise, his expression unreadable as he takes in the sight before him.

And then, to my horror, I realize why he's staring at me so intently.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" I curse, my heart racing as I realize I'm now completely exposed.

There are no clothes on my body.

It reveals every contour in stark detail. I can feel his eyes lingering on me, tracing the lines of my curves with a hunger that makes my skin crawl.

And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, I feel a flush of heat spreading across my cheeks as his gaze lingers on the most intimate parts of me. An answering heat between my legs follows, just as persistent as the first moment I saw him.

What the hell? Nothing about him is the least bit attractive. Nothing.

I want to scream, to cover myself up and hide from his penetrating gaze. My mind is blank. I can't move, can't tear my eyes away from him as he stands there, a silent predator watching his prey with lust.

He could do whatever he wanted to me, and there's nothing I can do to stop him. And I'm aroused?

I don't know how.

I don't know why.

To my surprise, instead of advancing toward me, he remains where he is. And then, without a word, he turns and moves back into the water, disappearing beneath the surface with a sense of finality that leaves me feeling strangely hollow.

I lay there for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of what just happened.

My hands are shaking as I get myself upright again and look around for something to defend myself. Anything.

A sharp rock catches my eye and I grab it, holding it tight to my chest, surprised when my suit shifts and I look down to see a new pocket for it.

I let out a snort, then imagine it in a better location for my makeshift knife.

Have I escaped unscathed, or was this just the calm before the storm? Only time will tell, but one thing is certain—I'm in far deeper trouble than I ever imagined.